Page 48 of Dirty Play

Alegra Harrison. Draped in an emerald-green dress that clings to her body like it was poured on. Her hair is swept up, exposing her neck and the diamonds dripping from her ears. She’s all curves and polished confidence as she steps into my path, her red lips curling into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Rowan,” she purrs, her voice low and smooth.

“Alegra,” I say, my tone neutral. I keep walking, but she moves with me, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” she asks, placing a hand on my arm.

I stop, glancing down at her hand before meeting her gaze. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Well, you found me.” She steps closer, her perfume invading my space, something expensive and cloying that makes my stomach turn. “Or have you been avoiding me?”

“Can’t avoid someone I wasn’t looking for,” I say, my voice cool.

Her laugh is light, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “Always so blunt. That’s what I like about you, Rowan. No pretense.”

“Can I help you?” I take a step back, creating some distance.

She tilts her head, her smile turning coy.

“Oh, you certainly can.” Her hand trails down my arm, her nails grazing the fabric of my suit.

“Stop.” I grab her wrist, not hard but firm enough to make my point.

Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Why fight it? You’re exactly the kind of man I need.”

“And you’re married to the man who signs my paychecks.” I let go of her wrist, taking another step back.

Her smile falters, but only for a second. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“You think I’d risk my career for a quick fuck?” I laugh, a low, humorless sound.

“Oh, it won’t be quick,” she purrs again, her eyes raking over my body. “I intend on savoring every piece of you.”

“Can’t savor something that’s not on the menu, Alegra.” My patience is wearing thin.

“You’re not as untouchable as you think, Rowan.” Her eyes narrow, the charm slipping.

“Neither are you,” I say, my voice dropping an octave. I take a step forward, towering over her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to find someone.”

She stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she huffs, turning on her heel and stalking down the hall.

I watch her go, my jaw tight. As much as I want her to leave me alone, I hope she doesn’t. The moment I’m no longer interesting to her, she’ll try to dig her claws into one of my players. And I’d rather it be me than them. That way, at least, I know she won’t succeed.

Shaking my head, I head back to the ballroom, hoping that Livia’s decided to make an appearance.

I’m halfway through another whiskey when I see her.

She steps out of the back area of the ballroom like she’s been hiding there, trying to avoid the crowd.

Livia.

And she’s wearingred.

Not just any red, either. This deep, sinful shade that hugs her body like it’s custom-made to ruin men’s lives. The gown is strapless, with a slit up the side that’s just indecent enough to make my blood heat. Her hair is swept to one side, her bare shoulder and collarbone catching the soft light.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to devour someone so badly.

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